


Coda: Closures, Cake And Cuddling (1961-1969)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [315]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Frozen (2013), Game of Thrones (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural, Tangled (2010)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Brome - Freeform, Cake, Castles, Childbirth, Cuddling & Snuggling, England (Country), F/M, Family, Gay Sex, Heaven, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Nobility, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sussex, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-12-25 12:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ The Holmes and Watson lineages continued; the swinging sixties. A second Sherlock finds his own happiness with a man who just wants to he held, a flag is raised and lowered quite a bit, government again proves that it cannot run a bath (as if no-one knew that), a brother is more than a brother, a new father wisely holds his tongue, and after a deserved ennoblement a housekeeper chooses an inopportune moment to express her bigoted opinions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Northern_Gryphon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Gryphon/gifts).



_(Sherlock Watson, born 1936, was a visitor to the cottage before his great-grandson John Watson I and namesake Sherlock Holmes I both died. Nick is the son of Luke Jackson-Giles (born 1900), Luke being the godson of Mr. Lucius Holmes. Luke is the eleventh son and sixteenth of nineteen children of Benjamin Jackson-Giles (1863-1948), which prodigious gentleman Sherlock and John had rescued as a teenager from the Tankerville Club in 1879)._

**1961**

**Casdene, East Sussex, England**

Mr. Sherlock Watson flicked off the small television set and sighed. He tried to pat his untidy long blond hair into some sort of order, to no avail as ever. This new _'Avengers'_ series was all very dramatic but a bit too fast-paced for him. Despite his young age he much preferred peace and quiet – talking of which.....

His partner/lover/whatever entered the room, as silent as ever. Nick (he loathed 'Nicholas' for some reason) was at thirty-four some nine years the second Sherlock's senior. From the pictures he had seen of the Holmes family Sherlock knew that his own Black Beauty was, skin colour apart, almost the image of his 'god-great-grandfather' Lucius.

(That so was a thing, despite what 'someone' said!).

Nick had joined the Army on his eighteenth birthday shortly after Victory in Europe Day and had gone out to fight in the Korean War some years later, returning like so many with scars inside and out. His mother had asked if the fellow could spend some time in the country and Nick had moved into the spare room in the then new extension, becoming an integral part of the Watson family such that when Sherlock's mother and father had moved to their new house in Newick last year everyone had just accepted that the two men would continue to live there together.

Sherlock knew that most people (his family included) believed that Nick and he were 'at it' around the clock much as his namesake and great-grandfather apparently had been during his time here; indeed he had been quietly impressed just how the villagers had managed to communicate that fact to him without actually saying any rude words! Though Mrs. Bull at the general store saying that it was such a pity that he and Nick could not have children because they would have been so beautiful – really! The two men did have sex from time to time but most days when he came back from his work at a local newspaper Sherlock just cuddled (or more accurately was cuddled by) his silent love. 

From the notes of his famous forebear that he had just started to work through he often smiled at the thought of what his medical ancestor would have made of his having a handsome man in the house and not having sex with the fellow at every opportunity. As for that TARDIS complete with the flashing light in the back garden well..... some of the things that they had found inside of it! His ancestors had been a right pair of horndogs! 

The sonic screwdriver at least had been aptly named! Sherlock smiled at the memory, pulled his lover closer, opened another barley-sugar and read on.

“You'd be the one to get pregnant if we did have kids!” Nick muttered as he wrapped himself around the shorter man.

Sherlock prodded the teasing bastard but smiled.

֍


	2. Chapter 2

_(Byron Blackwater, Jaime Lannister and Arthur Dane, all over ninety years of age, had all been found dead at their cottage in Kirkcudbrightshire on the first day of 1962. All had been over ninety)._

**1962 (Earth-time)**

**Heaven**

The castle was more than impressive, dominating the area for miles around. And the three flags – the Noble Houses of Lannister, Blackwater and Dane – that fluttered from the three turrets along its wide frontage denoted that the masters were all at home. That three men living out in the Scottish countryside had died of natural causes all on the same day had looked more than a bit suspicious but fortunately God had managed to make it look the fault of a gas leak rather than their all having prayed to His Wife not to outlive one another. Him above, She was already writing a story about them!

God did however think it was pushing things a bit that the Wife had arranged for the Blackwater flag to drop to half-mast every time its owner was.... well, every time he _was_ by one or both of his lovers, but He let Her have that one. And it was pushing things a bit more when one day said flag was replaced by a pair of torn and frilly ladies' panties in the same design. And that bugle sounding off every time the flag was lowered, though..... that was _really_ pushing things!

“Actually”, Mrs. God said when He pointed this out, “when it comes to pushing things...”

She really was terrible at times. Although – God sighed as The Thing With The Swinging Balls started to shake again – not as terrible as some people that He could mention. Twenty-three years and Castiel was _still_ at it!

֍


	3. Chapter 3

_(John Watson III, born 1938, is the youngest son of the original John Watson's grandson Benjamin Watson II and hence brother to the Sherlock in the earlier story in this chapter. It is faintly possible that the gentleman whom he was named after may have shed a tear when he had been brought to the cottage as a baby in early 1939 but it goes without saying that it had been a manly tear)._

**1965**

**Hailsham, East Sussex, England**

Twenty-seven year-old John Watson sighed dispiritedly as he sank into his chair.

“No joy?” his wife asked. He shook his head.

“Those bastards up in London were determined to close the line”, he sighed. “We knew that when the last timetable came out, making people wait ages for their connections, running down the stations and only using crappy old stock. No wonder the line was still making a loss; they kept all the staff despite halving the service and then _claimed_ that only a few hundred used it these days so it wasn't worth keeping open.”

He had just returned from a protest meeting against the closure of their local railway, the 'Cuckoo Line' between Polegate and Eridge. Hailsham had once been the principal town in the area but the railway had arrived late and the resort of Eastbourne had long surpassed it. And now they were losing the railway which meant that he would have to buy a car. Ugh!

“Sherlock called”, Jane said. “He says he and Nick are getting a new car and we could have their old one. It still goes pretty well for its age.”

“That's good of them”, John smiled. “Yes, that would do for now. Did he say if Nick was better?”

“Still does not want to leave the cottage after those thugs made fun of him in Brighton”, she frowned. “But then he never liked the town much anyway.”

That was true, John thought. His brother living with an ex-soldier with what Sherlock laughingly called 'issues' worried him, but he was a grown man with his life to lead.

He sighed and went to see if their daughters had gotten up to any more mischief in the past ten minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> † Far more than the infamous Beeching Cuts, this deliberate destruction of the rail network by the government and the nationalized industry meant to be running it is mostly responsible for the dreadful state of the country's railways ever since.


	4. Chapter 4

_(Christopher 'Kristoff' Macdonald, aged eighteen, is the grandson of Fraser Macdonald II. Edwina (nineteen) and Eugene (eighteen) are the children of Sherlock's and John's godson Eustace Fitzherbert whose father James helped the idjits in their final decade at the cottage, and of Alice Tudor, grand-daughter of the Edward 'Ginger' Tudor helped by Sherlock)._

**1968**

**Isfield, East Sussex, England**

Eighteen-year-old Eugene Fitzherbert winced as he saw his brother-in-law – his _former_ brother-in-law – reading the letter.

“She left us”, Kris said softly. “Skipped out of hospital and said she was going to live with someone she'd met from Denmark. She abandoned us all.”

Eugene felt for the man he'd regarded as more than a friend, even when his ghastly elder sister had gotten her over-manicured talons into him. The Macdonalds were all impressively built but Kris was a class apart, a blond giant who had muscles in places where men rarely had muscles. Little wonder that even though still a teenager he played in goal for the local ice-hockey team, hence his nickname of 'The Iceman'. And despite having been told that he had much more than most men in the looks department, Eugene had always thought the fellow beautiful.

“Will you fight the divorce?” he asked. Kris shook his untidy blond locks fervently.

“If she could abandon our two sons minutes after giving birth to them I do not want her back!” he said angrily. “My parents were right; I was a fool for marrying her so young. No-one loves anyone when they're still a teenager.”

“That's not true.”

Eugene wished the words back in his mouth the moment he said them. Kris looked at him curiously.

 _You?”_ he asked. “Well, I suppose with your looks.....”

He got no further because Eugene's body, evidently deciding that his brain had not yet screwed things up sufficiently, had him kissing the giant. Kris froze for a moment, then suddenly wrapped two huge arms around the smaller man.

“You do know this will take some explaining”, he muttered at last.

“That's what I do best”, Eugene grinned playing with the giant's unruly hair. “Leave it all to me. Now let's go see the kids.”

֍


	5. Chapter 5

_(Baron Harry Hawke, now sixty-nine, is the original Sherlock's grandson who had brought his son Tobias to the cottage in 1933. Note that once a title is elevated the numbers are reset, so the 13th Lord Hawke, Harry Hawke IV had become the1st Baron Hawke, Harry Hawke I.)_

**1969**

**Brunton Hall, Collingbourne Kingston, Wiltshire**

What a fortnight it had been! After his and his family's philanthropy had been recognized by having their titled elevated to a barony, just two days later Lord Trelawney Hawke, who could well have been the first Baron Hawke, had died. And now this!

Harry Hawke sighed in relief as the cab drew up outside the great house and the large woman who had been threatening to cause a partial eclipse struggled into it before being driven off. He turned to the other fellow in the room.

“I am sorry, Tan”, he said gently. “I did not think my own housekeeper....”

He trailed off. They had just had to endure the funeral of his brother Trelawney, lover of the gentleman he was speaking to, and his now ex-housekeeper Mrs. Pallas had been serving snacks at the reception afterwards when she had, incredibly, asked 'when the old lord's slut was moving out'. Harry had never been so furious in his life; the dratted woman had been told to pack her bags and be off, and mercifully she had been all too willing to go.

“She only said what most people are thinking”, Tantalus Holmes sighed. “I always thought with Trey being nearly a decade younger I was certain to go first.”

“You know you can stay on in his house for as long as you want”, the nobleman said firmly. “Or move in here; the kids and grandkids love when you visit, as you know.”

Tantalus smiled at that.

“Thank you”, he smiled. “But I think I would like to end my days where we were happy together.”

“That bigoted old battleaxe did not get the reaction she was clearly hoping for”, the baron said. “I honestly think that she expected a round of applause for her behaviour, not a cold silence and people turning their backs on her. Some people these days! I promised Trey long ago when he said he was going to stand aside for me that I would look after you if anything happened to him, and I swear I will keep that promise.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Call me 'brother'”, the baron smiled. “You will always be family, Tan.”

֍


	6. Chapter 6

_(Vere Henriksen, twenty-five, is the great-grandson of Valiant Holmes I and the great-great-grandson of Victor Henriksen I. He emigrated to the United States in 1966 and married the following year)._

**1969**

**St. Charles, Missouri, United States of America**

Vere was fairly sure that his hand would return to normal. Some day. It really had been inconsiderate of his wife to grab it in such a way just because she was giving birth like that.

Incidentally, Vere was also a policeman, which was why he was smart enough not to give voice to that thought. Besides, he hoped for more children some day.

“Are you still all right with our choice of name?” he asked. They had made the mistake of asking her family for help in choosing the name of their new son, and Vere had seriously considered moving to Alaska as a result!

His wife nodded.

“Victor after your uncle”, she agreed.

“And after my famous ancestor”, Vere put in. “Are you able to have some food yet?”

“Bugger that!” she snorted. “Pass me that cake you brought me.”

There was a wail from the nearby cot. Vere smiled.

“He really is like his ancestor”, he said. “Too soon for you yet, Victor.”

֍


End file.
